You Are Too Good For Her
by snowfwake6
Summary: Eponine walks alone through Paris. Marius asked her to deliver a letter to a stranger he met on the street and fell in love with. But she was no stranger to Eponine. They used to be friends a long time ago, Eponine remembered.
1. Chapter 1

_Sometimes I walk alone at night when everybody else is sleeping..._

"Eponine, I was looking for you!"

"You were, Monsieur?"

"Yes. I wanted to ask you to do me a favor."

"Anything you want, Marius."

"Well, the other day I was by your house and I saw a beautiful young woman come out. Do you know who she is?"

"Well... not really."

"You told me once that you knew your way around and could find just about anyone. Could you find her for me?"

"I could. Why do you want to find her?"

"The day I saw her leave your house our eyes met and I fell in love. I had never seen anyone so beautiful as her, and even though I don't even know her name, I feel like I can't live without her."

"Oh, well I suppose I could find her for you."

"Oh thank you, Eponine, your the best friend a man could have."

"Oh, yes. You're welcome Monsieur Marius."

That was last week. Last week when the man I've always secretly loved sent me out to find the girl I grew up with. Cosette. I could recognize her eyes anywhere. Her and her father came to our house last week. My father was trying to trick her father into giving him money. When she came in she was holding on to her father's arm. She had on the finest clothes and looked perfect. I had on my ratty old brown dress that I've had since I was twelve. I was dirty and bruised. Our eyes met for a split second and I knew who she was. "Wow things have changed," I whispered to myself.

Now I walk alone at night trying to find her adress. It's cold and windy. I wrap myself tighter in my thin cloak that I stole from a merchant. Tears stream steadily in my eyes. I think back to one of my earliest memories. It was the first time I ever saw Cosette. I was two or three. I have a blurry memory of me holding my infant sister on our swing when a crying woman stumbled into our old inn. She carried a little girl in her arms. I remember looking into the little girl's big blue eyes. My next memory comes from later that day. After I tried to talk to the little girl my mother scolded me. "Do not play with her. She is trash. You are too good for her."

"Oui Madame," I said. When you are small you believe everything your parents tell you. They are righter than God in your eyes and no matter how many people you see them rob and rip off, they could do no wrong.

I stop and rest from walking. I'm tired. I push my hair out of my face and behind my ears. I was so ignorant then, I think to myself. It starts to rain. I keep walking.


	2. Chapter 2

_Reasonable charges plus a little extra on the side..._

I grew up in my parents' inn. I had a room there that I shared with my sister, and later my brothers. Though there were many rooms in the inn, my parents refused to let us occupy them because paying customers could be sleeping there. Cosette slept on a small bed of straw in the stable where our customers left their horses.

Everyday I would wake up and play with my sister. I had wonderful toys. Whenever there was a doll I wanted, I would just ask and my parents would buy it for me. I had the most beautiful dresses too. Cosette wore rags and had no toys.

I was horrid to Cosette when I was little. I never let her play with me. One day when I was 5 and my sister, Azelma, was 3, we were playing with our dolls. "See, Azelma, you just twist this around this and then do this and see, it's a braid," I said.

Azelma stared at my work. She worshiped me back then. "Wow! I wish I could do that to my doll," she said.

"Try it then," I told her.

Azelma took her doll in her lap. She started twisting the doll's hair around and tangling it.

"No Zelma, not like that! Your messing it up!" I scolded her.

"I am not!" Azelma whined.

"Yes you are!" I said.

Then I felt a tap in my shoulder. I turned around to see Cosette. "What?" I asked.

"If you start from the top and keep adding hair you can make a very pretty braid. I'll show you," Cosette said. She tried to take my doll.

"What are you doing? Give it back you theif. My dolls are too good for you! You sleep with smelly horses! I'm going to tell on you!" I shouted. Then a got up and ran to my mother who was cooking .

"Mommy! The Lark is trying to take my doll!" I complained.

"Oh, poor baby," My mother said. She handed me a bread roll. "Go tell Cosette she has to clean up outside. Your father will be home soon, you know. Go take your sister and get cleaned up. You don't want to be dirty like her!"

I chuckled and sneered. "Come on Azelma. I'll do your hair," I told my sister. She obiently fallowed me to our bedroom.

"Why can't The Lark touch our dolls?" she asked.

"Cause she's dirty. Mom said. Her mother is off the dirty sorts. Like our customers. Scumy, you know," I explained even though I had no idea what I was talking about. When you are five you don't have a mind of your own. Yo. Just say fragment of what you remember your mother saying.

Alzelma nods. When you are three you dont actually know what your sister is saying but you nod anyways so that your sister will play with you and do your hair. "I'm glad I'm not dirty," Alzema says. I tie a bow in her hair as I hear the inn doors open.

"Daddy must be here," I say. Azelma and I run to the main dining room in our in. "Daddy! You're home!" I said.

"Yes, my girls. I brought you home gifts,." He handed Alzema and I each a brown wrapped package. I tear mine open. It was a beautiful doll.

"Thank you father. I shall call mine Marie," I say.

"I shall call mine Azelma," my sister said.

"But that's your name," I said.

"It's a fine name," Azelma said.

My parents smiled and laughed as Cosette stared at us through the window with her big blue eyes.

I pause on the sidewalk. That girl could write a book with just one glance. I never forgot the look she gave me that evening. The jelousy she felt for me. Me. But that was back when my father would get me things when he came back from trips and my mother would laugh and call me baby. It was back when Azelma looked up to me and we didn't live in a small apartment in Paris. It was back before I saw fault in my parents and before I fell in love with a man who sees me the same way I saw five year old Cosette. Dirty. Scumy. I look down at myself. I am those things. What have I become?


	3. Chapter 3

_Three percent for sleeping with the windows shut..._

Gavroche was born when I was six. He was a loud baby. Some babies cry when they are in need. He just screamed. He drove us all nuts. "Cosette! The baby is screaming again. Feed him!" My mother ordered. I sat on a stool next to my mother watching her fill bottles with water.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Saving money, darling," my mother said.

"How?" I asked.

"By putting water in the bottles. See. You try." She handed me a half full bottle of wine. I held it carefully and poured some water into the bottle.

"I did it!" I exclaimed as if it was some great accomplishment.

"Good job me girl," my father said, coming into the room. "She's going to be a great innkeeper one day."

"Really Daddy?" I asked.

"Oh yes! Come on into my office, I'll show you what I do all day," he told me. I got up and fallowed my father.

He sat at his desk. "See, darling. This is a bill for a customer. Ten francs for the room. Five for the dinner. Five for hospitality. Five for keeping his horse. Three more for wine. Three franc for blankets and two for pillows. And look at this: five francs for shutting the windows at night. Do you know how much that is?"

I careful count the charges on my fingers. "Thirty eight francs?" I ask.

"Thanks correct my daughter," my father laughed.

"Do they really pay it?" I asked.

"Every time 'Ponine, every time," my father said.

"Your a genius," I said.

"I am, aren't I. And will that baby stop crying?"

I get up and leave my father's office. I run down to my room where my brother was supposed to be asleep. Cosette stood over my cradle swindling Gavroche.

"Don't touch my toys while your in here," I warn her.

"I'm not," Cosette said.

I scowled at her. "Why don't you stop the baby's screaming?"

"I try," Cosette said. She looked like a lost puppy. She was afraid of me. I was tough little girl. Nasty and tough. I stuck my tougne out at her. My brown ringlets bounced.

"I just came to get my bonnet," I said. "I bet you wished you had a bonnet as pretty as mine. Don't think of trying it on. I'll know because you'll surely get it dirty."

"It was supposed to be mine," Cosette said quietly. "I heard your mom say. My mother sent it to me but your mom gave it to you."

"You liar!" I shouted. "Your mom doesn't send you anything." I pushed her over. She fell back onto Azelma's bed. "Clean that bed!" I demanded and stomped out of the room with my bonnet.


	4. Chapter 4

_Every word that he says is a dagger in me._

There comes a time in every child's life when they realize that their parents are not perfect. For me this moment was when I was seven. It all started when Azelma and I went to the rope tree park. It is an area of clear meadow at the edge of the forest. There is a tree there that someone tied a rope to. All the children in our town went there to play.

It was the first warm day of the year. "I can't wait to swing on the rope," four year old Azelma said. "I won't be scared this year."

When we get to the park, there is already a large crowd of children crowded around the tree. Azelma and I get in line for a turn at the swing. We watch as each kid tries to get higher than the kid before them. Then it's our turn. "I'll go first since I'm older," I tell Azelma. I take the rope in my hands but some kid takes it from me.

"You can't have a turn," he tells me. His name is Bertrand.

"Why not?" I ask.

"Because we don't play with thieves," Bertrand says.

"Azelma and I are not thieves," I say.

"Your family are all thieves. My dad went to your inn. He got his watch stolen."

"It's not my fault your Daddy lost his watch."

"Your Daddy stole it," Bertrand says. "My Daddy says that to your family is trash. And we don't want to play with trash. You might steal from us."

"We aren't trash," I say.

"You are too. I know what you've inn is like. You charge people too much and steal their things. And it's dirty!"

I couldn't take it anymore. I jumped on his back and knocked him to the ground. I punched him in the face. He pulled my curls trying to get me off. I hit him over and over. His nose started bleeding.

"Get off of me!"

"I hate you!"

The children made a crowd around us. "Fight! Fight!"

Then someone pulled me up. It was my mother. "Eponine! We're leaving right now!"

"No! He was saying terrible things about us."

"I don't care," my mother said. She dragged me home by the arm.

"Why did you come?" I asked.

"Your sister told me you were fighting. It's very unladylike to fight. What will our customers think?"

"Mama, did Daddy steal someone's watch?" I ask.

"He left it here. That means it's ours," my mother says.

"He didn't! You stole it!"

"Eponine, calm down," Mama said. We walked into the inn. My Daddy sees me.

"What happened to her?" He asked.

"She got into a fight with Monsieur Cordell's son."

My mother sits me on a stool. "Your punishment. You have to help Cosette clean out the stables."

"That isn't fair!" I exclaim. My mother doesn't care. I watch as Daddy gives his customers watered down wine and disgusting food. I watch as he takes a man's coat and takes off his gold pin before putting it on the coat rack.

My parents are thieves, I think to myself.


	5. Chapter 5

_Not any floors for me to sweep, not on my castle on a cloud_

Cosette hummed softly as she swept the dirty floor of the stable. Her broom was much too big for her little frail body.

"Hello Lark," I say from the doorway of the stable. "Mother says I have to help you but I don't think I will." I walk over to a pile of hay and sit. I watch as Cosette gets the shovel from the stable door and starts to shovel out the dirty hay. I begin to think. What if my parents were wrong about Cosette too? What if she is a nice girl?

"Do you need any help?" I ask.

"You don't have to help me," Cosette says.

"I want to," I say.

Cosette looked at me puzzled. She handed me the large broom.

"What do I do with it?" I ask.

"Sweep," Cosette says.

"Yes, but sweep what?" I ask.

"The floor," Cosette says.

"Where does it go?" I ask.

"Why is your mother making you help me?" Cosette asks me.

"I beat up a boy," I say proudly. "He called me a thief. I made his nose bleed."

"Do you regret it?" Cosette asks.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because he is right. My mother and father are thieves," I say.

"Then why did you beat him up?" Cosette asks.

"Cause I didn't know they were theives until just now," I say.

"Why are you talking to me?" Cosette asks.

"My parents were wrong about you too. Your not trash. You're nice."

"Thank you," Cosette says. "And your not snotty. You're nice too," Cosette says.

"Do you want to be friends?" I ask.

"Yes," Cosette says.

And with that, we were friends. Little kids can become friends so easily. Since the day in the stable everyday I would sneak Cosette extra cheese and bread at meals. We would secretly play with each other when no one was watching. I would let her play with my dolls. She would teach me how to knit.

Nobody knew we were friends. Nobody ever found out. I stop on the wet pavement of the Paris streets. Rue Plumet. I had found Cosette's home. Through curtains and a wet window I can see a young woman sitting on a chair sewing. It had to be Cosette. I move closer to the window and peer through the glass.


	6. Chapter 6

_Truth is given by God to us all in our time, in our turn..._

Cosette sewed quietly in her chair. She had a beautiful nightgown on. I haven't had a nightgown since we moved to Paris. I remember back to one evening in our inn. It was the fall I turned eight.

I was supposed to be asleep but I could fall asleep. Azelma kept making noises and Gavroche kept moving around. I decided I needed water. I got up and began to walk down the stairs. I stopped myself when I saw my parents talking.

"I got a letter this afternoon," Mother says."Fantine is dead."

I silently gasp. Fantine was Cosette's mother.

"Well who's going to pay for the little Lark?" Father says.

"I don't know. She doesn't have a father."

"Well then what the hell are we supposed to do with her?"

"Throw her out, I guess."

"Will give her until the spring. Then she's out."

The next day I found Cosette in my room. "Hello, Gavroche, hello," she says cheerily. "Do you want some food?"

"Yes! Yes!" My two year old brother exclaimed.

"Here is some bread," Cosette tells him.

"I like bread."

"I know you do," Cosette says. Then she sees me at the doorway. "Hello Eponine," she says.

"Cosette I need to talk to you," I say.

"What's wrong?" Cosette asks.

"Your mother is dead. I heard my parents talking. They want to throw you out of the house in the Spring."

Cosette started to cry. I put my arm around her shoulder. "Don't cry Cosette," Gavroche says.

"I never even got to meet her," Cosette cries.

I look through my trunk of things and pull out my old bonnet. "She wanted you to have it," I say.

"You don't have yo give me your bonnet," Cosette says.

"It's yours," I say.

"I don't want to live on the streets," Cosette says.

"I'll visit you and bring you food and clothes," I say.

"Thank you Eponine. Let's promise to stay friends forever, no matter what happens," Cosette says.

...

Cosette sees me in her window. She walks over to me. "Hello?" She says opening the window.

"Sorry, I'll leave," I say.

"Who are you?" Cosette.

"Eponine. Do you remember me?"

Cosette's eyes widen. "Eponine... What... happened? We were at your house yesterday and..."

"We lost our inn and became poor. Now we make a living sending letters to rich families asking for money. My father has a gang. We're always changing our names and running from the law. I had to sell all my pretty things. My father kicked Hargrove out of the house and now he lives on the streets."

"Eponine, I had no idea," Cosette says. "Please come in, have some food."

"No thank you," I say. "I should go home."

"Why did you come here?" Cosette asks.

"My... friend. He wanted to know who you were," I say.

"Whom?" Cosette asks.

"His name is Marius. He's a student. He likes you," I say.

Cosette's complexion lit up. "Please come in Eponine. We'll get you some food. You look freezing," Coseete says.

"No..no," I start.

"Papa! My old friend is here. Can she come in and have some food?" Cosette asks.

Her Papa came to the window. "Is that your friend?" He asks.

"Yes. Her name is Eponine. She lived with me at the inn."

"Oh. Of course she can come in," her Papa says.

"Thank you Monsieur," I say.

They lead me to the door and I go inside.


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you both, for Cosette. It won't take you too long to forget..._

I sit down at Cosette and her Papa's dining room table. Their house is large and beautiful. "Please have some wine and eat some bread and cheese. "Thank you," I say. "You don't have to..."

"Nonsense. You showed me kindness when I was a child. I am simply returning you the favor," Cosette says.

"Are you cold?" Cosette's father asks me. "Do you need a blanket?"

"I'm fine," I say.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again," Cosette tells me.

"Me neither," I say.

...

I remember the day Cosette left. It was Christmas Eve. I was exited that day because my parents had bough Azelma and I a kitten. He was a little black and white kitten. I called him Midnight.

"He is a lovely kitten," I tell Azelma. "I will sew him some clothes."

"Alright," Azelma says. "He needs a bed."

I look across the room. My mother is making Cosette fetch water. I wished Cosette could play with us. She left into the night.

"Is Santa going to bring us presents?" Azelma asks.

"I don't know. Have you been good this year? I ask.

"Well yes," Azelma says.

"Then Santa will come,"I say.

Azelma scoops the kitten and puts him in her lap. "Let's play a pretend game," Azelma says.

"Okay," I say. "Let's pretend the kitten is a princess who was kidnapped when she was a baby and was raised as a servant."

Azelma was fastinated by this concept. "Your good at pretend," Alzelma tells me. We play for a while until a man comes into the inn. He is a tall man and in his hand he held Cosette's bucket. Cosette trails behind him holding the beautiful porcelain doll Azelma and I had both drooled over in the shop window next to ours.

"Where did she get that doll?" Azelma exclaimed. "It was supposed to be my doll. She must have stolen it!"

"I bought it for her as a Christmas present," the man says.

"Why are you buying Cosette dolls?" My father asks.

"Cosette's mother is no longer with us," the man says. "I want to adopt Cosette from you."

"Adopt Cosette? Well... how much are you willing to pay?"

"1000 francs."

My father chokes on his dinner. "1000 francs?"

My mother is not as impressed. "As you know Cosette has been very ill and we have had to buy many medicines. Please Monsieur try to understand."

"1500 francs," the man says.

My father chokes again. "Deal."

"Go get your things Cosette," My mother tells her. Cosette goes into the back room and I fallow her.

"Who is he?" I ask.

"A friend of my mother," Cosette says. "He is very nice. He bought me this doll."

"So your never coming back?"

"I don't think so."

"I'll miss you. We can keep in touch. I know how to write and you can learn and we'll write letters to each other," I say.

"Alright," Cosette says. She hugs me. "Bye Eponine."

"Bye."

Cosette walks back to the door and leaves with the man. I don't hear from her for ten years.


	8. Chapter 8

_All my life I've only been pretending..._

It is very late when I get home. "Where have you been?" Azelma whispers to me. "Mom and Dad are asleep. You weren't with those rich boys again, were you? Get in here now!"

I walk into the house. "No," I say. "I was just running an errand for a friend."

"Who?"

"Nevemind."

"It was that bloody Marius, wasn't it?" Azelma asks.

"Yes," I say.

"You're an idiot, Eponine. A bloody idiot. What were you doing anyways?"

"Nevermind."

Azelma walks closer to me. "You smell like wine. Where did you get wine?"

"I was visiting a friend," I say.

"A friend who gave you wine?" Azelma asks.

"Yes," I say.

"It wasn't Montparnasse, was it? Please say no."

"No," I say.

"Then who?"

"Cosette."

"You mean our old servant girl Cosette?" Azelma asks.

"Yes," I say. "She lives in Paris. She is very rich and beautiful now. Marius is in love with her."

"Well what were you doing at her house?"

"Marius asked me to find her for him," I say.

"So he's using you?" Azelma asks.

"No," I say.

Azelma glares at me. Poor girl has been through more than most sixteen year olds ever will. Her face is pale and sickly. Her hand is wrapped in bandages from when father smashed her hand into a window. Her clothes are torn. She is dirty.

...

"Azelma?" I whisper one January night when we're supposed to be asleep.

"What?" She whispers.

"Do you miss Cosette?" I ask.

"Yes," Azelma says. "Mum makes me clean up my own room now. She even made me dust! It isn't fair."

"You're spoiled," I tell her. "Some children have to do terrible work and they don't get any food or toys. Some children don't have homes."

"Well I have a home and food so I shouldn't have to do chores." Azelma grabs our poor kitten and squeezes it.

I begin to miss my friend. I wish she still lived here.


	9. Chapter 9

_He was never mine to lose..._

The next morning I knock on Marius' apartment door. He answers. "Yes?" He says.

"I have found her," I say.

"The girl?" Marius asks.

"Yes," I say.

"Please tell me her name," Marius says.

"It's Cosette," I say. "She lives at Rue Plummet. I can take you there, Monsieur."

Marius' face lights up. "That would be wonderful," he says.

"This way," I say.

I lead him down the quiet streets of Paris. "Not many people out today," I comment.

"No, I guess not," he says.

"I wonder why that is. Last time I was out here there were more people out. It was a different time of the day. That's probably why. More people in the evening. That's probably why," I say. I realize I'm rambling and stop talking.

"How much further?" Marius asks.

"Not much," I say.

We walk a block in silence. I feel weird. Why can't I speak to him like I do everyone else?

"How are things going with the revolution?" I ask.

"We are planning to rebel on the day of General Lamarque's funeral," Marius says.

"You are all so brave. I wish I could be out there with you," I say.

Marius stops. "You can't do that," he says. "It's too dangerous."

"I'm just as tough as all of you," I say.

Marius chuckles. "You are the most strong willed girl I've ever met."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Can be," he says.

I smile at him and for a split second forget where we're going. Then it sinks in. We walk by Cosette's gate. "Here's the place. Good luck Monsieur."

"No need to always call me Monsieur," Marius says. "Just Marius is fine."

"Alright, Just Marius. I'll be going now," I say. He tilts his head at me. Is smile and disappear behind the shrubs.

I find a place out of sight to watch from. Marius stands by the gate. Cosette comes out of the house and stands by him. She gazes into his eyes. He gazes into hers. They speak but I can't hear them from my hiding place. Marius takes her hand through the gate.

They speak for what seems like forever. I can tell they're in love. I hurts. Then he kisses her. I run from my hiding spot through the streets. I sit at a park bench and cry.

...

Things in my life started to go downhill around three years after Cosette left us. I was eleven, Azelma was nine, and Gavroche was five. We had another brother, Little Baby Pierre. My mother was pregnant. Things were not going well for us. Father called us to the living room.

"Now children, listen," he says. "Our inn is failing. We have no money."

"Why," Gavroche asks. "You always have money. And when you don't you just take other people's money."

"Quiet Gavroche," Father snaps. "Now listen. Your Mum and I think it will be easier to make a living in Paris. There is more work there-"

"Since when do you work? And of course there are more jobs but there's also more people to take them," Gavroche says.

"Quiet Gavroche!" Father shouts.

Azelma begins to cry. "I love Monfermeil. I don't want to be a Parisian."

"This has already been settled," Mother says.

"When are we leaving?" I ask.

"Next month," Father says.

"That's not enough time," Azelma cries. "My friend told me Paris is full of rats."

"So 's Monfermeil. What do you think's in the sausages," Gavroche says.

"Who told you that?" I ask Azelma.

"Bertrand. The boy you fought with," Azelma says.

"Paris Isn't full of rats," I say.

"Since when are you an expert 'Ponine?" Gavroche says. "And who cares about rats? I like them."

Azelma winces. "I'm not going," she says.

"You have no choice," Father says.


	10. Chapter 10

_Think your poor, think your free, fallow me, FALLOW ME_

I sit on the bench and cry. I can't help myself. I feel like a child. Why can't I have a happy ending? Why can't Marius see me the way he sees her? I want love. I want to feel wanted by someone. Comfort. Affection. It isn't fair.

I feel a hand tap on my shoulder. "'Ponine? 'S that you?"

I turn to see my brother standing over me. "Gavroche. I haven't seen you in weeks," I say. "Where have you been?"

"Nowhere, everywhere. How 'bout you?"

"Same," I say.

"Why we're you crying?" Gavroche asks.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

" I've just been feeling really useless lately," I say.

"Come back to my place," Gavroche says. He gives me no time to answer when he grabs my hand and drags me through Paris to the elephant statue he lives at.

"This way. He leads me through a complex set of tunnels and latters into the elephant. It's a dark space lit only by a small hole of sunlight.

About seven other children are there. "Guys this is my sister Eponine. Eponine this is Lily, Gusto, Clarice, Pierre, Michelle, Jaques, and Clause."

"Pierre. Jacques," I whisper under my breath then say. "Hello."

"How's Mom, Dad, and Sister?" Gavroche asks.

"Same as usual," I say.

"Have you been to ABC lately?" Gavroche asks.

"Yes," I say.

"I want to fight," Gavroche says.

"Don't you dare. You're summoning yourself to a death sentence," I warn.

"I'm tougher than all those guys," Gavroche says. "I'll be fine."

"Why would you do that?" I ask.

"We're making a difference. You don't get it."

"What do you mean I don't get it?"

"You're just not the type that looks at the big picture," Gavroche tells me.

I sit on a bed of hay where Gavroche sleeps. "Will you do me a favor?" I ask.

"What?"

"Let me borrow some of your clothes."

"Why do you want them?" Gavroche asks.

"Nevermind that."

"Well I only got one shirt and two pairs of pants. These and my Sunday pants."

"Well let me borrow your Sunday pants," I say.

"Fine. But I don't see why."

"You'll see," I say.

...

My parents were wrong. Life in Paris was no better than life in Montfermeil. It was worse. There was no work. No source of income. Father started hanging around a group of criminals. All of our money was earned dishonestly.

My third brother was born in December of that year. Jacques Thenardier. The winter he was born was a hard winter for our family. We had money. We were almost starving. Mother made Azelma and I sell all of our dolls.

"Please don't take them!" Azelma shouts one January afternoon.

"Azelma quiet!" Father shouts. He had been getting scarier and scarier lately.

"But Daddy, I love these dolls!"

"Would you rather starve?"

An old woman examines the dolls. "These are lovely," she says. "I've always wanted to have children of my own."

"Five francs a piece."

"Oh I'll take this one," she says. "Oh and who is this lovely doll on your lap?" She asks, referring to Jaques.

"Baby Jaques. And that's Pierre."

"They are darling," the old woman says.

"You know it's been so hard to take care of them," Mother says.

"Oh. I can imagine. You know if they were to stay with me I'd be able to provide them with a good home," the woman says.

"You mean that?" Mother says.

"Yes," the woman says.

"NO!" Azelma shouts as mother places Jaques into the old woman 's arms. She tries to run at her but I hold her back.

"Azelma please. She doesn't mean it," I say.

"Oh, but I do."

"You can't just take Pierre and Jaques," I say.

"Eponine, we can't afford them," Mother says.

"So cut something like wine. Not your own children!" Azelma screams. I can't believe you would even consider doing that! Father you can't agree?"

"Well they do come at a price," Father says.

The old woman hand father a check. "How's this?"

Father's eyes widen at the large amount of francs on the check. "Exellent"

"Father!" I say, still keeping a tight grip on Azelma' s shoulders.

"You can't do this! You can't do this!" Azelma shouts as the old woman leaves the house.

She leaves the house and as she walks out Gavroche walks in. "Who's that lady?" She asks.

"Mother sold them! She sold our brothers!" I lose my grip on her and she runs to the bed and dives on it, crying on it.

"You did what?" Gavroche asks.

"We had to," Father says.

"You did not," I say.

"I leave to get food, come back and you've sold my babies to a stranger." His face turns red in anger. "This is the last straw!"

"Gavroche!" Father yells.

Gavroche throws the bread he recently retrieved on the ground. "I can't believe you! I hate you. I'm leaving."

"To go where?" Father asks.

"Someplace away from here!" Gavroche says.

"GAVROCHE NO!" Azelma is hysterical.

"Goodbye sisters. I don't think I'll be back. I can live on my own."

He straightens his cap and walks out the door.

"He'll be back," Mother says.

Gavroche never came back.


	11. Chapter 11

_You fall in flames..._

I walk home from Gavroche' s elephant holding the pants in my arms. A voice in the back of my head speaks to me

"What are those for?"

Another voice. "I'm going to fight. "

"Are you stupid? Why would you do that?"

"I'd be making a difference."

"Nothing will ever change. What do you have to gain?"

"What do I have to lose?"

"Your life."

"What does it matter anymore? I don't matter! No one matters! What difference would it make if I were dead. No one would even care."

"Listen to what your saying! Are you really going to risk killing yourself for this?"

"At least I'd die trying to change things."

"You didn't used to be this way. You used to be beautiful. You used to be self confident. You used to be strong."

"I'm not that person anymore. Poverty has changed me. I'll never be able to change back."

"Not if your dead. Eponine. Eponine. EPONINE!"

I snap back into reality. Someone has a grip on my shoulders. It's Montparnasse. "What?"

"What are you doing out here?" Montparnasse asks me. "And what are those?"

"Nothing," I stutter.

"I was just going to meet your father," he tells me.

"My father." I speak in a daze.

"There's a house were going to hit. Rue Plummet. Belongs to that tall fellow we encountered the other day. The one with the branding on his chest."

"Rue Plummet," I mutter.

"You alright?"

"Yes. And I'm coming with you."

"If you insist," he says.

I fallow him through the streets to the house. I've been here every night for the past three nights. I see my father. He looks back and sees me.

"Ponine! Why are you here?"

"She fallowed me here," Montparnasse says.

I stare at my father. "I believe you have the wrong house," I say. "This is not the home of the man we met."

"Don't be foolish, girl," Father says.

"I mean what I say," I say. "Don't go in there."

"Shut up girl. Boys let's move in."

"I'll scream," I say. "I'll do it."

"You will not!" My father exclaims. "You'll regret it girl!"

My knees shake. I open my mouth and let out a belting scream. My father's gang members scurry away.

"You idiot girl!" Father yells as he smacks me across the cheek. He grabs my arm and drags me away. As I move farther and farther from the house I see Cosette's eyes in the window. I wonder whether or not she was watching the whole time.

...

The day my brothers left was the day Azelma became broken. At nine years old she was complete and utterly broken. She never played. Never laughed. Never smiled. She barely even spoke. She would just spend hours staring at the wall, emotionless.

I didn't break until a few years later. For me there wasn't one particular breaking point, but more of a series of events that made me crumble.

The first one very well may be my mother selling Pierre and Jaques and Gavroche running away.

The next one probably came when I was 12. By this time my father was well established in the Patron Minette. His gang was going to rob a man's house while he was away on a trip. The problem was that all the doors were locked and very difficult to break down. The only way into the house was through a tiny open window. None of the gang members could fit through. But I could.

The whole idea was crazy to start with. They squeezed me through the tiny hole and I fell into the house. I landed on my arm and it hurt so I squeeled "ouch".

Then I heard a voice inside the house yell "Who's there?"

I was so frightened because I thought the house was empty. The man who owned the house came into the dining room I fell into. "What are you doing here?" I ask.

"This is my house. The better question is why are you here?"

I didn't know what to say. "I don't know."

"How do you not know? Are you trying to rob me? What is your name?"

I wasn't stupid enough to tell him my real name. Instead I mutter the first name that comes to mind. "Cosette," I say.

"Cosette what?"

"Jondrette," I say, remembering our fake last name.

"Cosette Jondrette?"

I nod.

"Get out of my house," the man says. "And don't think about coming back here you little ball of dirt!"

I scurry out of the house as fast as possible. I run to my father. "The man is home. He caught me!"

"What did you do?"

"I said my name was Cosette Jondrette."

"Oh, you idiot!" Father says. He belts me across the face in front of the gang. "Let's get out of here."

It was the first time father ever hit me. It wasn't the last.


	12. Chapter 12

_Without me, the world will go on turning..._

My father drags me down the street. I squirm. "Stay still girl," Father tells me. His grip is painful. I try to wiggle myself free.

"Please can I go?" I ask. I'm crying again. When did I start to cry so much. I used to be so tough.

"Fine. Go." Father let's go of me. "Leave for all I care. But don't think about coming back!" I start to run. "You won't be welcome back! Run avatars girl!"

I run and run. I reach an alley. I sit down on the pavement. The ground is hard. I take a piece of string coming unattached from my dress. I tie up my hair into a braid. I remember when I used to braid my hair for fun. Now I had different motives. I wrap my hair around at the top of my head and put my hat over it. I then take Gavroche' s pants. I squeeze into them. They are tight because he is quite a bit smaller than me, but I'm used to clothes not fitting.

I reach around the ground for a sharp stone. I tear away at the skirt of my dress. I rip off the access material so only the top of my dress remains. I use the skirt material to wrap my chest down. It is cold. I need my coat. It's pretty late. I know if I go back to my house it would be a risk. My Dad is probably still fuming. But he also probably isn't home for he rarely is. I slowly walk back to my house.

When I get there, it is all dark. I slowly open the door. My father is gone like I assumed. My mother and sister slept. My sister. It hits me that if I fight, there is a chance I'll never see my sister again. She sleeps still like a baby. My darling sister. What would she do without me? And could I leave without saying goodbye. I kiss her forehead gently. I don't want to wake her because I'd wake Mother. Instead I write her a note and leave it in her drawer.

Then I grab my coat. I put it on. I wonder if I actually look like a boy. I wonder if people are actually going to buy it. I open the door to my house and walk out of my house. I feel a weird sense of relief and euphoria rush through me. I take a deep breath. I am ready. I am going to fight.

...

By the time I was 14 my family had found a new tactic for getting money. My father would write letters to rich men asking for money. Azelma and I had to deliver these letters. This, a lot of the time involved long journeys, many times lasting multiple days. They were tedious but it taught me my way around.

One day I remember clear as day. Azelma and I were returning from a delivery. "My feet hurt," Azelma says.

"Toughen up. You'll never survive if you complain about useless things like feet," I say.

"Well what can I complain about?" She asks me.

"Nothing."

"I'm awfully hungry. I haven't eaten since two days ago." Azelma was many times a burden to take along. I was glad she was there. I probably would have gone insane without her. Actually, I think I went insane with her. But it's always better to go in twos.

"Fine I'll get lunch," I say. We were at a rich section of Paris at the time. No one knew us. "Cough," I tell Azelma.

I walk into a bakery. Azelma trails behind, coughing into her arm. "Please. My sister is very ill," I say. "We have to spend all of our money on medicines. We haven't eaten in three days. I'm afraid she'll die."

The woman at the counter stares at me. Azelma coughs. "No charity," she says harshly.

"Please Madame. We at starving!" I say.

A young boy about my age sees us from across the bakery. He walks over.

"How much for two pieces of bread?" He ask.

"10 sous," the lady says.

The boy sets money on the counter. The lady hands him bread. Then he turns to us. "My grandfather gave me money to buy bread, but I think you could use it more." He hands Azelma and I each a bread piece.

"Thank you," I say looking up at him. His eyes meet mine. I smile.

"You're welcome," he says. "What is your name?"

"Eponine," I say. Azelma shoots me a look because I was supposed to be using a fake name. I don't care.

"Well I better be going," the boy says. "I hope your sister recovers."

He begins to leave. "Wait," I say. He turns around. "What is your name?"

"Marius Pontmercy," he answers and runs out of the bakery.


	13. Chapter 13

_Do you hear the people sing, singing the songs of angry men..._

I show up at the funeral parade for General Lamarque. There are many people in the crowd. The first one I recognize is my brother. Well actually be recognizes me. "Ponine?" He asks, staring at me. "I though you were going to sell my pants, not wear them."

"Shh," I whisper. "I don't want people to recognize me."

"Are you going to fight like that?" He asks.

"Well they won't let a girl fight, will they?"

"For good reason."

"Well children shouldn't fight either," I say.

"If you look at the grand picture, we're all children. I'm not that much different than the rest of the rebels."

"Well there's no way in stopping either of us, so I better be going," I say.

I want down the street and find Marius. "Hello," I say.

"Hello," he says. He doesn't pay much attention.

"Do you know me?" I ask.

"I don't think so," Marius says.

"Are you sure, Just Marius, because I surely know you," I say.

He looks at me. "Eponine," he says.

I smile at him. He looks shocked. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"I think it's the strong willed thing you mentioned the other day," I say.

"You aren't seriously going to fight, are you?" Marius asks.

"I'm here, so I might as well,"I say.

"Your a strange girl, Eponine."

"Don't tell anyone it's me," I say.

"Alright," Marius says. "But why do you want to fight?"

"Why not? I have nothing to live for. Maybe if we win the fight, live will gain its worth again."

"I know what you mean," Marius says. "I've just learned that my one true love will be moving to England and I'll never see her again."

"Cosette?"

"Who else?"

The funeral parade starts to come down the street. "Now!" Enjolras commands and a bunch of boys, including my brother, jump onto the casket and begin waving their French flags.

"Long live the revolution!" someone shouts. I fallow along the side trying to keep up with Marius and not lose sight of him.

...

After the day at the bakery, I was in love with Marius Pontmercy. I don't know what it was about him (his smile, his personality, the fact that he was the only boy who was ever nice to me), but I loved him. I spent hours thinking about him, and whether or not I'd ever see him again.

Then the unthinkable happened. He moved in next door to us. I was sure it was fate. We were supposed to be together.

I would go to his house and talk to him. I usually did most of the talking. Thinking back, I was a bit of a pest . I would ramble on and on about nothing. He would half listen half think of a good excuse to leave his apartment. A lot of times this reason involved going to the cafe to talk politics with his fellow students.

Sometimes I would tag along with him. I would sit at the back of the cafe while Marius sits at the front. I would listen to Enjolras give speeches about a new tomorrow that I knew would never exist, but Marius seemed to. In some ways they were refreshing to listen to. In other ways they were quite dangerous. They are one reason I'm here.


	14. Chapter 14

_On the lonely barricade at night..._

If you would have spoken to a young child version of me and told her "In ten years you'll be dressed up as a boy so that you can fight in a battle because the man you love is in love with Cosette, who is rich and has fancy dresses" I would have thought you were insane. I would give you a strange look and then run and tell my mommy that the drunk customers are talking to me again.

But here I stand on the streets as people throw furniture from their windows to the ground. Some young man motions for me to help him lift up a table and move it to the large pile of furniture that is being built in the middle of the street. Luckily another man runs over to help him. I stand there motionless while everybody around me is busy. If I talk they'll suspect I'm a girl. If I try to lift things they'll suspect I'm a girl.

I see Marius again and walk over him. He is busy moving chairs to the barricade. I grab a chair and fallow him. The chairs are heavy. I try to keep up.

"How big are we going to build it?" I ask.

"Big enough to protect us," Marius says.

"Will we get enough furniture?"

"I hope so." He throws a chair onto the pile. He is so strong. I cannot throw mine like he does so I just set it down next to his.

We move chairs for what seems like a long time, then Marius goes to talk to Enjolras, the leader of the group. I keep behind. One of the chairs gave me a splinter. It hurts. If a simple splinter in my finger hurts, how must a bullet feel? I begin to have second thoughts about being here. I know I can't go back now though. I'm not even welcome in my house.

I stick my finger in my mouth and suck on it. I feel like a baby. I take my finger out and try to pick out the splinter. It's no use, though.

The boys in charge start handing people guns. I don't get one. I am invisible.

Everyone starts to assemble at the barricade. I stick by Marius. His eyes meet mine. I take a step closer to him. In the distance we hear noises. The noises are unsettling. Like a slow rumble in the pit of your gut. Danger.

My skin starts to form goosebumps. My forehead sweats. The sky starts to turn dark. I didn't think it would be late enough for darkness yet. There must be rain approaching. My vision gets slightly blurred. I feel slightly dizzy. The rumbling sound turns into drum beats. A large group of soldiers comes marching down the street.

Enjolras shouts "Fire!" and we Fire at them. A few guys fall but it's hard to tell. The sky starts pouring rain. Cold water streams down my face. I take another step towards Marius.

The leader of the other side yells "Aim!"

I see a gun pointed right at Marius. It is my instinct to jump in front of him. The man yells "Fire!"

I hear a bang and feel a sharp shoot of pain go flying to my stomach at a million miles per hour.


	15. Chapter 15

_And rain will make the flowers..._

I was shot. I immediately fall to the ground. My stomach stings. I can feel the blood in my body. My vision gets cloudy.

Marius kneels beside me on the ground. I can see his face but everything else is spinning. "You saved my life," Marius says.

"I'm going to die," I say. It hurts to talk. It hurts to breathe.

"Don't say that," Marius says.

"It's true. I don't want to lie. I hate lies. I hate secrets. I have secrets. I'll tell them to you." I say. I lie on the ground and he holds me in his arms.

"It's raining? Are you cold?"

"Rain can't hurt me," I say. "Did you know that I used to live with Cosette when she was young. She worked for us. I was her friend."

Marius takes of my hat and undos my twist braid so that my hair falls over his lap. Is this what dying feels like? Is this how I imagined myself dying?

"You know I'm not afraid to die. I wanted to die. I don't want to die anymore, but I know that I am going to die and I'm not afraid. Maybe I'll go to a better place."

"You will live..."

"No. You know that I used to be rich. I had pretty dresses. I was pretty. Very pretty." Now my chest hurt. My poor heart was trying so hard to keep pumping.

"How bad does it hurt. Is there anything I can do?"

"I don't feel any pain," I lie. "Not with you here. Did you know that I love you? I'd do anything for you. Even dress as a boy and come here. You are the kindest boy I have ever met. I've always wanted you to love me back. To see me the way you see her. Love at first sight. It's real. I know."

I grimace in pain. He holds me tighter. I look lovingly into his eyes. I smile. It hurts to smile. I feel myself getting weaker. I close my eyes and breathe.

Marius starts to cry. Crying for me. "Will you promise me something?" I ask.

"Anything."

"When I die, kiss my forehead. I'll know. Even if I'm dead I will know."

The pain become worse. I am becoming weaker. I can hardly breathe. Weaker. Every breath I take I know could be my last. Weaker. I begin to go numb. Weaker. The pain starts to go away.

I feel my self becoming weightless. I can't feel anything. All I feel is a brush of warmth on my forehead. I see visions of my life- the day Cosette came to us, random jumbled memories of me being a nasty little girl, Cosette's eyes,fighting the boy, winning, cleaning out stables, realizing there is more to people then you might think, moving to Paris, hunger, my sister screaming on a bed as my brothers leave, getting smacked by my father, running around Paris, delivering letters, seeing Marius, falling in love, realizing he'll never love me back, seeing Cosette again, her kindness, crying, dressing as a boy, coming here, being shot. My whole life flashes before my eyes.

Then it stops. Everything stops. All I can see through my closed eyes is the light. The beautiful light.


	16. Epilogue

_grow_

Cosette says:

I pick up the corners on my dress as I walk down the street. The pavement is covered in blood. All of the bodies are lying in a line. I look at each of their faces looking for him. I bite down on my lip. It is a horrendous sight. Some people stand around and stare. Others lay down flowers and things. One woman just screams. "He was my baby!"

I don't like it here. I keep walking slowly. Every face I see all I can think is "please don't be Marius" over and over. But then I see someone else. A little boy. A child. I kneel down beside him. He looks familiar. I know I knew him from somewhere. I can't place my finger on it. Tears well in my eyes.

A woman walks past. "Do you know his name?" I ask her.

"Little street rat. Gavroche I think."

I look at his face. I took care of him when he was a baby. I remember. I lay the bouquet of flowers I had on his chest.

I keep walking, quicker now. I want to get out of here. This was the worst place I'd ever been.

Then I see someone else. Among these boys lied a girl. She had brown hair and brown eyes. Her face was pale and she was covered in blood. She wore a brown coat and a hat on her head. I knew her at first glance. She was my first friend. The first person to show me kindness in the world. Eponine.

Why was she here? How did she die? She was always so brave.

I run home. I hope father's not their. I hadn't seen him last night or this morning. I run into my room and go into my chest of things. I pull out a little bonnet and the bottom of the chest. Eponine gave it to last day I lived with her. I take the bonnet and run back to the bodies.

I find my friend again. This time another girl is by Eponine's body. She stares at me. I used to live with her also. She was Eponine's little sister. She had Eponine' s hat on her head and Gavroche' s little vest in her arms. She sees the bonnet and knows. "They never do say goodbye, do they Cosette?" She says then runs off.

I bend down beside Eponine. I take the bonnet and set it on her head.


End file.
